


iPod

by ThatNerdyGirl



Series: Scomiche Drabbles [6]
Category: Pentatonix
Genre: Before Pentatonix, M/M, high school era, iPod, playlists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatNerdyGirl/pseuds/ThatNerdyGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitch lends Scott his sweatshirt. When Scott gets home, he finds Mitch's iPod in the pocket of the sweatshirt. He soon finds a playlist named after himself. What does he do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	iPod

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this little idea popped into my head suddenly earlier today, and I just had to write it down. I hope you like it! This is set before the days of Pentatonix, when they were all in high school.

Scott shivered, rubbing his arms in a poor attempt to warm himself. He sincerely regretted wearing a T-shirt to the park – it was a stupid decision, really.

His teeth started to chatter, and Mitch looked at him, amusement written all over his face. “A little cold, Scott?” Scott nodded, not even pretending to be offended by the little jab. Mitch just laughed and shimmied off his sweatshirt, passing it to his friend. Scott gratefully pulled it on, sighing at the warmth the extra layer provided. Mitch giggled again and pulled his jacket on, and they continued walking around the small park.

***

Scott arrived at home around five, and was relieved to find that his parents weren’t home. He wasn’t supposed to have been out – Mitch’s incessant begging had convinced him to defy his parents’ orders.

He ran up the staircase and threw himself, literally, onto his bed. He landed heavily on his stomach, bouncing slightly, and felt something hard jab his torso.

“Ow,” he muttered, lifting himself into a sitting position and plunging his hand into the sweatshirt pocket. Cool metal grazed his fingertips, and he pulled out the slim object. He looked down, surprised, at the green iPod resting in his hands, with white, marshmallow ear buds wrapped around it. Mitch must have left his iPod in the pocket when he had given it to Scott.

Scott turned the little device on, smiling at the dents and scratches on the machine. Mitch was always so clumsy – dropping things and tripping constantly – and he was never seen without his iPod. The device was obviously well-loved.

Scott pushed the marshmallow ear buds into his ears – the regular ones could never fit into Mitch’s ears – and scrolled through the iPod’s music. He selected the playlist option and went through those, stopping suddenly when he reached the middle. There was a playlist named after him.

He quickly checked to see if there were any playlists named after Mitch’s other friends, but found none. He went back to his playlist, swallowing nervously as he selected it.

He pressed _Shuffle_ and closed his eyes, listening to the music. He smiled as the Beatles’ _Love Me Do_ played, as well as several other love songs. Soon, he turned off the iPod, unable to stop grinning. He heart was pounding as he leapt up off of his bed, grabbing the sweatshirt and iPod and racing out of the house.

He ran down the street and continued until he was several blocks away from his own house and approaching Mitch’s. Assuming the tenor was already home, he knocked rapidly on the door until Mitch’s very short, very Italian mother answered.

“Can I speak with Mitch?” he asked breathlessly. She nodded slowly, inviting him in. “He’s up in his room,” she told him, but he was already halfway up the stairs.

Scott burst into Mitch’s room, and Mitch jumped in shock, whirling around to face Scott from his place at his desk. Mitch frowned, obviously confused. “Scott? What are you—”

Scott tossed the iPod at the shorter teen, who caught it quickly. “I listened to the playlist,” he told him, still slightly out of breath. Mitch’s expression of terror told Scott the entire story. “You what?” Mitch asked, his voice quiet.

“I thought it was awesome,” Scott said, crossing the room. “I think it goes perfectly with my playlist about you.”

Before Scott was aware of what had happened, Mitch’s arms were wrapped around his neck and he was kissing him. Scott kissed back eagerly, winding his arms around Mitch’s waist.

He definitely didn’t regret wearing only a T-shirt to the park.


End file.
